


Acts of The Senses

by silasfinch



Series: Acts of Faith [2]
Category: Saving Hope
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Headcanon, POV First Person, post episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 23:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11428455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/pseuds/silasfinch
Summary: Falling in love is an act of the senses.  The 27 hours after the final scene between them.AKA Syd has it bad





	Acts of The Senses

**Author's Note:**

> A little challenge I did for myself to get into the head of Sydney Katz. 
> 
> I wrote these series in large part to get comfortable with the characterisations of I show I wasn't able to watch. Now that I have done a few I will start posting longer/multi-chapter works some in this universe others not. People seem to like my approach well enough for my insecure geek heart. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the feedback.

 

 _"For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been given to us, the ultimate, the final problem and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation_." **Rainer Maria Rilke**

 

**Acts Of The Senses**

 

**Seeing Devotion**

 

Love doesn't always win.

 

This fact is true, at least when love is confronted with the laws of Canadian Aviation.

 

We could not get on a flight till the following morning, and there was the small matter of Maggie's bags that were still half way between our separate apartments.

 

I may or may not have stolen several of her Harvard Sweatshirts in my carry on. How I ever believed that letting her go for the 'greater good' was going to be possible is a mystery.

 

The sight of Maggie signing for the reissued tickets and hotel room made my throat constrict, and my eyes fill with tears.

 

My phone which may or may not have been upgraded exclusively to follow Maggie on social media chirped away.

 

"Do not be a prideful idiot, Katz. Your absolute devotion is blatantly obvious – TELL HER – Alex Reid."

 

On impulse, I hugged Maggie to me and wrapped my arms around her achingly familiar frame and moved for a quick selfie that was at once embarrassingly cliché and lovely.

 

I want to be part of every cliché with her.

 

"Good Idea: this hospital is very invested in Operation Lintz," Maggie said approvingly between kisses "We owe Zach a Paddington Bear by the way."

 

I would have followed up with that, but I was too distracted by the feel of skilled fingers grazing my ribs, to summon the energy to care.

 

I am even ok with the cheesy Union Jack frames she will no doubt add later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Hearing Joy**

Maggie enjoyed life so freely.

 

I used to listen out for her laughter in the ward and fight the urge to follow the sound. In the past six weeks, Maggie's laughter had filled the space in my mostly utilitarian apartment.

 

It had brightened the worst of days.

When Becca had developed a severe post-treatment reaction, and my mother had all but disowned me in three languages, Maggie had coaxed a laugh by making kosher animal pancakes at midnight.  

 

Now as she pulled me to the hotel suite (with a suitably large bed) I am mesmerised by the contrast between my expected circumstances and the current events.

 

I want to map every inch of her skin that makes her laugh with that combination of delight and desire.

 

A part of me is ashamed of the ridiculous stunt I pulled in the on-call room with the scrub cap. No guide to healthy lesbian identity or coming out would ever advise such impromptu action (literature reviews aren't just for academics)

I could never forget the sound she made as we touched as if she had thought about this eventuality as much as I had.

 

I am resigned to always being a little insecure about my ability to please Maggie. She had naturally had far greater experiences than me, a variety of lovers and companions drawn into her orbit.

 

I had always been a devoted student to the point of obsession in all areas of my life be it surgery or scripture.

 

I silently resolved to learn all the ways to give Maggie pleasure; a private competition I fully intended to win.

 

A fragment of poetry filtered in my mind:

 

"For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been given to us, the ultimate, the final problem and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation."

 

 

 

**Smelling Familiarity**

There was a certain liberty that comes with being in a relationship. My favourite was the license to indulge in my most primal instincts.

 

Maggie has a particular smell: even over the pervasive smells of the hospital antiseptic, after birth and ammonia, I could always trace her. She told me once that it was a light floral sense that her grandmother had brought every year since Maggie was 16 and she wore it as a tribute ever since.

 

The scent had lingered in my awareness for weeks even in the exciting newness of Israel. The final stew in my relationship with Clara had been when I bought the perfume and kept it hidden in my locker at work.

 

My previous education in relationships had been almost exclusively faith or medicine based. My mother and sister would whisper about the joys of the marital bed. My chosen field had broadened my exposure to the different shapes of families, but my belief in the underlying foundation of household dynamics had remained the same.

 

I firmly believe (even now) that I wouldn't be entirely unhappy with Hershel. He is a good man – devoted, kind and genuine. We were both dedicated to our faith, careers, and notions of family.

 

Marriages are based on far worse all over the world.

 

Ye tnothing prepared me for Maggie nor the level of intensity she brought to my ordered and predictable world.

 

It was the difference between living in my body and living with my soul. I had resigned myself to my private and public universes never meeting. In the way that would be an ideal punishment for my crimes against Neshema.

 

Now I did not have to choose.

 

Maggie had brought a dimensionality to my life; to my entire life.  

 

I honestly believe I can better serve my different communities because of the person Maggie allows me to be; not just because she is a woman but because she is just as passionate about our work as I am and can be equally as stubborn and forthright.

 

Hence the dash to the airport even after I had pushed her away yet again.

 

As she kisses her way down my body for the second time, I infuse with the scent that is uniquely her, biological impossible or not.

 

My Jewish faith may never acknowledge her entirely, but she is my soulmate. We are bashert in the best ways. My bones hum with the same certainty I felt at seven years old when I decided to become a doctor.

 

I am sure of that now.

 

Nothing will change that.

 

The Great Rando had been more right than he would ever know, whichever afterlife he championed.

 

**Tasting Comfort**

 

Maggie has always loved Hazelnuts

 

I know this because I put batches of homemade energy cookies in her locker at various interludes in our relationship incarnations.

 

Jewish stereotype: Atonement in Food

 

Jackson was on to me, but he stayed blessedly silent; aside from the occasional side glance and comments about the quality of Maggie's lunches and the bounce in her step.

 

 

I will also admit to crossing the line into stalker behaviour once or twice, and I'm not overly ashamed of what that says about me.

 

I can feel no shame when she smiles so delightedly at the packet I produce for her as we lay tangled in the sheets, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. We had both been running on high emotion and adrenaline for days, so we needed a breather from the intensity.

 

"Hey, you are ok. I am here."

 

I am not a dignified crier. This fact comes from a combination of my chronic allergies and sinusitis as a child and my alabaster complexation. A movie reunion moment it was not when I cried against her shoulder and heaved out a confused mixture of English, Hebrew, and Yiddish.

 

Maggie was the only person in my adult life who held me so freely as I cried or when I'm happy for that matter. The Katz's were a loving family in our way (mainly through food). We simply weren't affectionate in the traditional ways. My graduation from med school (aka time for the marriage market) and engagement ( aka eccentric daughter finally settling down) being the exceptions of note.

 

I grabbed the cookies mainly to provide a neutral talking point so I could gather my wits and avoid talking like I sucked helium regularly.

 

Classic Jewish Diversion Tactic.

 

"Have I ever thanked you for these?" Maggie asked as she broke off a corner of a cookie and chewed happily.

 

"Ah, but that would defeat the purpose of my grand plans for anonymity. You weren't supposed to know who they were from, much less thank me and ruin my street cred with the residents." I barely resisted the urge to brush down the sheets.

 

"I hate to break it to you, Syd but you don't have a career in stealth. You were the only person I told about my grandmother's baking, and you sometimes had hazelnut crumbs on your lab coat ergo prime suspect."

 

" I intended to send you batches of them when I got to London," I confessed softly.

 

"I was going to learn Hebrew so I could send you messages in multiple languages." her return smile was equally tender.

 

"I stole your Harvard Hoodies because they smell like you."

 

"I took one of your shawls to wrap myself in while I ate ice cream and cried with Snowball."

 

We both laughed at the ridiculousness of the impromptu competition, relieved for the confession.

 

"Were the Board incensed with you?"

 

"They were less than thrilled, but I think I had already been tarnished with the Reid brand of eccentricity. The hospital grapevine will be hard at work. I had conferred with Dr. Anja Swanson before we left and she was thrilled to take the role. It suits her family well."

 

"She will do well at Hope Zion."

 

 

 

**Touching Joy**

 

Maggie Lin is a landscape.

 

I take great delight in learning every part of her. She has numerous little scars from misadventures with Declan. She obliging tells me the story of each of them as we explore each other one final time before we had to check out to catch the new flight.

 

It is disappointing to have to leave our little cocoon of togetherness. However, I doubt our champions at Hope Zion would be too impressed if we did not make it past a generic airport hotel with no kosher food to its name.

 

Alex Reid would never forgive me.

 

I can just imagine Jackson's Puppy Eyes of Judgement.

 

Staying right here ranks as one of my greater temptations as I explore the linear scar on Maggie's shoulder with my tongue.

 

"Declan and I had a tree climbing competition. I overestimated the structural integrity of the branch. Less than ideal landing with my gangly limbs."

 

"Ouch- you did not take care of the future surgeon's body very well, Dr. Lin." I chide only half joking as I imagine the scene and all the potential outcomes.

 

"I guess I need more 'intimate' supervision. Up for the task, Dr. Katz?" she quipped shifting her shoulder, so more skin was exposed.

 

"I kept you in line once. I am sure I can repeat the feat, particularly since I know all your weaknesses" I boast confidently laughing as my love pulls me down on top of her.

 

"Those are fighting words, Syd. Don't forget it's a two-way street. You aren't exactly immune to my charms either. You practically marked me when we went to Pulses" Maggie challenged rolling her hips gently.

 

Introduction to LGBT nightlife had been fun if a little threatening when the bartender with a tattoo sleeve become enamoured with Maggie and her skills and darts.

 

"I needed to do something, I couldn't compete with Janis Joplin 2.0."

 

"It is old-fashioned to be sure, but possessiveness is hot on you."

 

My witty reply was lost in her passionate kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Faith Reaffirmed**

 

Maggie was not a gift from God

 

She wasn't a possession to be given away: either by divine or human means.

 

She is a blessing to me in every sense of the word. I feel alive with gratitude for this journey we will be sharing together.

 

Maggie shifts uncomfortably in her seat, a combination of her greater height and stiffness from our more vigorous activities.

 

"You don't need to make up for 27 years in one morning; you know that right? We have time." there was laughter behind the rebuke.

 

I wonder when it will fully sink in. We had found our way to each other, and we are committed to a future together in another country, complete with HR paperwork and a joint lease.

 

An admin nightmare for another day.

 

As we argue playfully over the right concentration for rehydration salts, my thoughts flash briefly to Neshema and Ruth as they often did. She had claimed that Ruth had saved her after banishment and had provided endless comfort in dark days.

 

Maggie had done the same for me, effortlessly and gloriously forcing me to confront the reality.

 

"I can almost forgive you now because it brought me here to Ruth and the baby. You were a jealous gay kid who was also a golden child; torn apart at the seems. I met Ruth at an LGBT crisis centre" Neshema had commented as I monitored her baby "Don't do the same self-flagellation, Sydney, find light where you can.”

 

Against all the odds, rhymes and reasons I had found my light.

 

She was here to stay.

 

My Light


End file.
